


Never Knew the Word

by smileybagel



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Separation Issues, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:53:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smileybagel/pseuds/smileybagel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Separation” doesn’t exist for the Durin brothers and it never will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Knew the Word

They had prepared separate coffins for them.

Balin didn’t think it was right.

Once news had reached the remaining dwarven warriors of their princes’ demise, they had begun work. They, along with their uncle, were to be buried among their forefathers. It was how these things worked. No one could deny Death its prize, so they forged the boxes in which they would be kept forever more.

Unfortunately, Balin thought as he stood over the empty coffins, the forgers had forgotten a vital detail in their work. It wasn’t their fault, of course, but it would be Balin’s duty to right their wrong.

Th elder dwarf sighed and called over a nearby guard. He noticed how the lad couldn’t help but flinch away from the coffins as if they held plague toxins.

“Call over the one who forged these, if you would laddie.” The guard nodded and left the room quickly, back in mere moments with the one who crafted the Durin deathbeds. He was an old dwarf, nearing his own time of eternal rest, with a beard so white it glinted silver in the moonlight. In it many braids were woven, mostly tellng of his craft and deals with death, with none for a bride or children.

“Is there a problem, Master Balin?” Came the old one’s gravel-like voice.

“Aye, Gravemaster, there is. The boys…They only require one casket, you see.”

The Gravemaster’s bushy white eyebrows rose in surprise before furrowing as he looked between the three caskets and Balin. “One? But how do you expect any dwarf to rest soundly in a coffin made for one with another body pressed against him?”

“That is why a special casket must be crafted, one built for two. These lads…” Balin wrung his hands together in his robes, looking to the coffins with eyes laden with depression. “They never knew the word separation. It was wiped from Fili’s budding vocabulary as soon as Lady Dis gave birth to his brother. I would not have them learn it in death, if it can be helped.”

Silence reign supreme for a time after that with the dwarves standing, looking over the coffins, both deep in thought. The Gravemaster stroked his beard, his gnarled fingers combing over and through his many plaits before a soft breath of resignation left him.

“I will do as you ask, Master Balin. I thought my last piece would be my own deathbead, but it seems sleep will elude me once more.” This last part was said with a chuckle, though Balin knew there was no real emotion behind it. He turned away and let his voice carry over the halls as he left.

“I’ll have my apprentice help me with this job, if you don’t mind.”

—-

Three days later, the last of House of Durin was buried. The ceremony was quiet, not even a sniffle was heard, all in respect for the dead. Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, was first and foremost, the lid of his casket sliding into place with a resounding clack of stone. The remaining dwarves of his company walked up and paid their respects, laying down gems or weapons as tribute to their friend and king.

The brothers were next, all fitted together in one large coffin. They were laid side by side as they had appeared at their burglar’s door, Fili on the left and Kili the right. Their skin was cleane of blood and grime and covered with princely clothing that befitted them, clad with emblems of their house and armor of warriors, as Thorin had been. The dwarven company did the same as they did for Thorin, laying offerings upon the stone lid after it was closed. The offerings upon the brothers’ casket paled in comparison to what had been laid within, however. As many know, it was not uncommon for royalty to be buried with their riches so that they might take them to the afterlife.

Fili and Kili had no jewels or gold with them, no glittering weapons or crowns to be seen. Only the clasped hands of two very young brothers who had yet to see one hundred summers. They were each other’s precious treasure, in life and death, a fact no one was keen to contradict, and they would be together forever more.


End file.
